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PART TWO

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Stardate: 53943.2

Paris was the last of the senior officers to arrive in the briefing room.

Janeway noticed that B'Elanna looked up quickly and anxiously on hearing her boyfriend's entrance. From where she sat at the head of the table, Captain Janeway watched her lieutenant with scrutiny as he approached. She knew him well enough after almost six years in the Delta Quadrant to instantly see that something wasn't quite right with him.

His tall frame was straight, but his feet only just managed not to scuff the floor. His blond hair was combed and he'd shaved, however under both blue eyes he had a smudge of dark purple and the eyes themselves were small and slightly shot through with red. His lips were parted a little to take in extra breath, and his pallor was paler than normal. Tom was tired and trying to hide it, she concluded.

As Paris took his place at the table, Janeway worried that he hadn't recovered from his injuries. She glanced at The Doctor. The hologram's eyes were giving the lieutenant a silent medical examination. He frowned ever so slightly, appearing to take mental notes, then his expression relaxed and he looked away.

Nothing serious then. Tom must've just had a poor night after the previous eventful day. She herself had slept rather restlessly.

.

Tom sat next to B'Elanna, tying to ignore the ache that stretched across his forehead temple to temple and hold up a façade of wellbeing.

B'Elanna squeezed his forearm gently, her eyes searching for his. He met her gaze and saw the concern and question in them. His lips curved into a small smile to reassure her that he was okay.

He'd been brusque with her earlier, telling her to go ahead and have breakfast without him. She had responded angrily in all her half-Klingon ferocity and stormed off to the mess hall. Now, it seemed, she'd thought about his abnormal behaviour and realised something was wrong. Anger had given way to concern.

.

Janeway started the meeting by first requesting a report from The Doctor.

"Medical has no problems," the EMH informed her. "Yesterday's incident did not result in any deaths and only three crewmembers are on sick leave for the day."

"That's good news," Janeway said. Then she asked her officers, "What do we know about the subspace distortion?"

"Sensors recorded a large amount of neutrino emission due to the momentary appearance of a wormhole," Chakotay replied.

"The distortion was a change within the space-time continuum and sensors readings were too precise for it to have been a natural phenomenon," Seven of Nine added.

"However, there is no trace of a ship having come through," Kim said. "All that exited was energy."

"We cannot trace the origin of the wormhole, so it must be assumed that it came from the future," Seven said.

"Engineering status, B'Elanna?" Janeway asked her chief engineer.

"The surrounding space is littered with lots of tiny distortions. They are only micrometres in size, but are causing problems with antimatter containment. The warp core field is currently operating at only fifty-six percent of optimum efficiency," Torres answered. "I strongly don't recommend going to warp before we've managed to compensate for the distortions."

"What about this vessel ahead? What do we know about it?" the captain asked her tactical officer.

"Scans show the ship to be large and heavy with weaponry. It is currently orbiting an uninhabited M-class planet ahead of us," Tuvok replied. "I suggest that we wait until we have warp drive before making first contact."

"Agreed. We'll hold position here," Janeway responded. "Paris, you are to join Torres and Kim in engineering. I want a solution for those distortions. Dismissed."

*****

Stardate: 53944.5

The data on the screen blurred into incoherent smudges. Tom Paris lent against the engineering console and shut his tired eyes. He tried to rub the strain out of his forehead with a hand.

"Tom?" B'Elanna queried, worried.

He opened his eyes and turned to look at her from beneath his hand. "Hmm?"

"Tom, are you ok?"

"I'm fine," he lied, turning back to the console and reaching for a padd balanced on top of it. "What were the results for the third scan again?"

"Nominal."

"And the fourth showed a fluctuation of point zero two six. . .I mean, two four. . .four. . ."

"Point zero two four seven," Lieutenant Carey supplied. He glanced at Torres, whose expression mirrored his own concern for Paris.

"Are you sure you're alright, Tom?" B'Elanna asked. "Maybe you should go and lie down."

"I said, I was fine."

"But are you?" B'Elanna pushed. "You look exhausted."

"Aw, thanks, honey. You look great too." Tom's sarcasm was harsh.

"Tom," B'Elanna pleaded.

"B'Elanna," Tom responded, coldly.

The half-Klingon grew angry. "Fine!" she spat, turning away. "Reconfigure the sensors to run another test."

Regret for upsetting B'Elanna filtered through Tom's irritation. However, feeling too weary to do anything about it, he did nothing but silently tap commands into the console.

As the fifth test began to run, Paris stared unseeingly at the results filling the console's screen. A heavy mist of uncomfortable memories covered his mind and he was unable to shake himself free. His thoughts were filled with the chaotic dream he'd woken from with a start earlier that morning. It had been a violent, fast-paced dream that had left him exhausted. The images continued to swirl in his mind even now.

He had dreamt of Voyager in battle with the alien vessel that had featured in the dream he'd had the night before. To begin with he'd been at the helm, struggling with the rest of Voyager's crew, then later he'd been on board the other vessel, stood next to Tira, watching the fight through the window in the dim corridor. From then on he'd spent one instant in one place and the next in the other.

The Narcian vessel had been heavier and larger, and so not as manoeuvrable as the Intrepid-class starship. But its firepower had been astonishing. With every blast that hit her, Voyager staggered and something broke. It wasn't long before the shields were down and the warp core was offline. The Narcians had boarded via their own transportation device and enforced surrender from Captain Janeway. Tom along with the rest of the crew was then transported to the Narcian ship. The last thing he'd seen, which had scared him awake, was the death of B'Elanna.

She'd retaliated when treated roughly by a Narcian warrior escorting them through the ship, another guard had instantly fired an energy weapon and, before Tom had fully taken in what had happened, B'Elanna lay dead at his feet. Sickness had welled up within him as he looked down into the still, blankly staring face of his love, and the shock brought him to consciousness.

The relief he'd felt realising it had only been a dream had been immense. Yet, seeing B'Elanna alive didn't make him rejoice, as he knew he should. Instead, whenever he saw her now, the painful image of her lifeless body laid where it had fallen on the Narcian ship filled his mind.

Paris considered going to The Doctor. He might be able to shed some light on why he was having these nightmares and put a stop to them. Yet, his pride didn't like that idea. He decided to see how he slept the next night and reconsider tomorrow. After all, two nights of bad sleep wasn't something to start raving about. Worse things could - and did - happen, especially in the Delta Quadrant.

*

Officers Paris, Torres and Kim left engineering and headed for the mess hall to have a long over-due lunch. As they walked, Torres tapped her combadge and gave the captain a report on their progress.

"We've finally managed to find a way to compensate for the distortions. We'll have the warp drive running by this evening," Torres announced. She went on to explain that they'd worked out that a complex electromagnetic current had passed through the wormhole, which meant it had been unquestionably artificial in nature.

B'Elanna's voice seemed to get further and further away to Tom. Then, suddenly, it was as though he was plunged underwater.

Tom's chest heaved as he struggled to draw breath. His vision slipped into a tunnel, then rapidly faded to blankness. He was distantly aware of his legs crumpling beneath him and felt himself fall. At the same time, even more dimly, he heard B'Elanna and Harry cry out his name.

Tom didn't feel himself hit the floor.

.

Paris opened his eyes. A light danced high above him and the face of Voyager's EMH swam into view.

"Tom?" A soft feminine voice he'd never heard before, yet he felt as though he'd known it all his life.

He turned his head so he could see her. Beside his biobed stood Tira.

Tom sat up sharply. At once, he doubled over in agony, clutching his left ribs.

When the burning pain had stopped searing through him, Tom slowly straightened and took his hands away from his side. He could feel something wet on them, so held them palm-upwards to look. They were red with blood. The cause of the pain was revealed to be a deep wound in his side.

"What. . .what, what. . .?" Tom struggled to know what to ask first.

Tira touched his shoulder. "You tried to escape, remember?"

"What? No. Why would I. . .what do you mean?"

"We can't let it happen, Tom," Tira said, seriously. "We've got to change your future."

"What are you talking about?" Tom asked, desperately. "Where am I?"

The Doctor stepped forward and pressed a hypospray against his neck.

"No! What's in that?" Tom cried. He edged backwards, away from them. "Where am I?!"

.

"You're in sickbay, Mr Paris," a calm voice said. The Doctor, Tom's sluggish mind registered.

"Tom, it's ok." B'Elanna.

Tom's eyes flew open. B'Elanna, Harry and The Doctor were looking down at him. He bolted upright. His hand went to his left side, but there was no pain, no wound.

"What happened?" Tom asked, his voice unsteady.

"You passed out in the corridor," B'Elanna told him, worry written clearly over her face.

"You're exhausted and dehydrated," The Doctor told him. "But I don't think that was the cause or at least not the only factors. Scans showed that whilst you were unconscious there was a lot of brain activity, like that shown during a Vulcan mind meld. I even detected a flash of what could have been another brain pattern just before you awoke."

"I had the weirdest dream. . .Tira. . .what did she mean? What does she want?"

"Is he lucid?" Harry asked The Doctor.

"I believe so," the EMH answered. He touched Tom's shoulder to make sure he gained his attention. "Lieutenant Paris."

Tom met his eyes. "Doc, what's going on?" he asked.

"I don't know, but I intend to find out. Start from the beginning. Tell me everything you know."

Paris told of all that he'd experienced regarding Tira from when he'd had the first nightmare two nights ago. When he'd finished, he looked from The Doctor to B'Elanna to Harry, hoping that someone could explain what was happening to him. But they all looked back with nothing but concern for him on their faces.

"I'm relieving you of duty until this has been resolved," The Doctor said, quietly. "It could somehow be a result of that head injury you sustained, but I can find no sign of any damage still remaining. I'm going to run some more tests. Lie back down."